


Family Affair

by caecily



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5253443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caecily/pseuds/caecily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kon invites Tim over for Thanksgiving dinner, and gets Tim’s entire family instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Affair

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so late posting this that it is now topical again! Originally written for Tim/Kon week 2014, Super vs Bat.

  
Kon lets his head fall into his hands and groans. “You _swear_ you don’t have telepathy, man?” As if Kon didn’t write his emotions across his face for the world to see. “Well… Ma wanted to ask if you had, you know, Thanksgiving plans,” he mumbles out in one long breath. Crimson-faced, he peeks up at Tim.

“I usually just spend it with my family, but I’m sure I could make an exception this year. Ifyouwant me to come, that is. If you’d rather I not–”

Kon shakes his head emphatically. “No! I’dlovefor you to come, I just wasn’t sure if you–but if you want–”

“I’d love to meet your family,” Tim says, and Kon lights up, beaming.

—-

The phone barely rings before Bruce picks up. “Tim? Is everything all right?”

He doesn’t casually call home. Tim knows that Bruce cares about him, that Bruce keeps tabs on him while he’s at college, but they’ve never had the kind of relationship where Tim would call just to talk.

“Yeah, everything’s great.” He takes a breath, and then, speaking quickly, “Kon invited me over to spend Thanksgiving with his family.”

“And you accepted,” Bruce says after too-long a pause. Tim grips the phone more tightly in his hand.

“Yes.”

“We’ll miss seeing you at Thanksgiving, then.” Bruce’s voice is studiously blank, unemotional. “But if you change your mind, Tim, don’t hesitate to join us.”

“Of course,” Tim says quickly. “I’ll, uh, see you at Christmas.”

“Christmas, then.” There’s an awkward pause, which Bruce fills in by asking about school. Tim tells him about acing his multivariable calc midterm and the mock trial he’d won, to which Bruce mainly goes, “Hn.”

It’s just how he always is, so Tim can’t tell if Bruce reallyisall right with Tim spending Thanksgiving away from the family or not. It’s not like Bruce would ever outright say something, if he weren’t. But even though Alfred is usually the one setting up the family dinners and scolding them all on the importance of being with one’s family, Tim knows that Bruce loves them, too. In his own way.

Sometimes he forgets that Kon can read Tim almost as well as Tim can read him, because as soon as Kon comes home from class, Kon is frowning at him.

“Tim? Did something happen?”

“Nothing,” Tim says, but Kon looks unconvinced. He drags an unprotesting Tim into his lap and locks his arms around him.

“Uh huh. I’m gonna cuddle you until you talk, y'know.”

Tim laughs. “Your interrogation technique could use some work. What have I taught you about mixed incentives?” he teases, but there’s something soothing about being surrounded in Kon’s arms. Kon might be on track with this strategy, after all. “It’s Bruce,” Tim says, mostly into Kon’s shoulder. “I told him yesterday, you know, about Thanksgiving.”

Kon’s arms tighten around him. “What’d he say? You can still come, can’t you?”

“He didn’t really say anything about it,” Tim said, sighing. “Bruce doesn’t reallytalkabout his feelings. But, I spent all summer at my Stark Industries internship, and now I’m skipping out on Thanksgiving, too…. It’s kind of a big thing with my family. Alfred makes a three-day feast, and it takes about two weeks to recover from the turkey coma.”

“Tim… you know you don’t have to come if you want to be with your family, right? You can meet my folks another time.”

“No!” Tim protests, sitting up. He cuts Kon off with a kiss, nuzzling along his cheek for a moment. “I really want to. This is just … new, you know? For both of us.”

Kon probably would’ve argued more, if Tim didn’t take advantage of his position in Kon’s lap tothoroughlydistract him.

—

“You could invite the rest of your family too,” Kon says later, when they’re finally getting around to eating takeout.

Tim frowns. “Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much an imposition? I have three brothers, you know. As much as I like to forget about two of them.”

“Ma won’t mind. Hell, shelovesfeeding people. A big dinner with the family is just the kind of thing she loves,” Kon says, stealing some of Tim’s tofu. Tim nabs the last of Kon’s chicken in revenge.

“You haven’t seen how much my brothers eat. It’s too much trouble. Maybe if we invite your family to Gotham–” Tim starts, but Kon cuts him off with an exaggerated gasp.

“Now I _know_ you aren’t insulting Ma Kent’s hospitality to my face,” Kon says, mock affronted. “Look, instead of you and me arguing it out, why don’t we get Bruce and Ma on the phone together and letthemsort it out. And when Ma talks him into coming down to Smallville, I won’t even say I told you so.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “You think Mrs. Kent can out-stubborn Bruce?” he says skeptically. “You’re right, though. Let me give Bruce your Ma’s number.”

–

True to his word, Kon avoids saying “I told you so,” though he does wag his eyebrows ludicrously in a way that would really annoy Tim if he weren’t conditioned to be turned on by it.

—

“So, kiddo,” Dick drawls as soon as Tim picks up the phone, and all of Tim’s finely-tuned brother alarms go off. _Danger! Alert!_ He can justhearthe grin in Dick’s voice. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“… Is there something I _should_ tell you?”

“Things must be getting pretty serious with Kon if you’re having us _meet the family_. You’re letting your future in-laws meet _Jason_ and _Damian_? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh, god,” Tim groans. He’s been trying not to think about it, but the true terror of what he’s agreed to hits him in full force. “Maybe … maybe it’s not too late to tell the Kents that I’m actually an orphan?”

“If you elope with Kon before Thanksgiving, it’ll be too late for Kon to run away,” Dick suggests helpfully.

“ _Not. Helping_.”

His phone vibrates a couple times in quick succession, and Tim checks his messages with a sinking suspicion.

 **hellspawn** : _Drake, are you seriously dragging us all to your paramour’s home? Tt._

 **hellspawn** : _If their dwellings are substandard, I shall hold you accountable._

 **jay** : _finally letting us meet the bf? he better hope hes taking care of u_

“…You’d alibi me out if they disappeared sometime between now and Thanksgiving, right?”

—

“How formal are your dinners?” Tim demands when it’s time to pack. “Are we talking, cardigan levels? Waistcoat? Don’t touch that, I just ironed!”

Kon drops the dress shirt with a laugh and crowds Tim against the wall. “Tim. Dude. You’re spazzing out over nothing,” he says, so close that Tim can feel the words buzzing over his skin.

Tim glares, though it’s difficult to focus his eyes when Kon’s this close. “Forgive me for wanting to make a good impression,” he bites out, though it’s hard to feel angry with Kon’s hand sliding up the back of his shirt, warm and steady. “Should I pack the ties?”

“Like I evenowna suit, Tim. What do you think?” Kon is kissing Tim’s ear in between words, which is _truly_ unfairof him, preying on Tim’s weaknesses this way. Tim leans back into the wall, tries to focus.

“You have a suit in the back of our closet. You wore it to our anniversary dinner,” Tim points out.

Kon grins ruefully. “Well. Like I even owned a suit before I met _you_ ,” he corrects, and Tim’s heart flip-flops at that smile. “Look, it doesn’t matter what you wear. They’re going to love you. Just like I do.”

—–

Mrs. Kent – _Just call me Ma, dear_ – is every bit as welcoming as Kon promised. Even Damian is less surly after indulging in the wonders of Ma’s pie.

“Mind control drugs in the crust?” Tim whispers to Kon, and Kon grins, presses a kiss to Tim’s hand that makes Ma coo and Jason gag.

Ironically, Alfred is the one who has the most trouble with Ma. The problem is, they’re two peas in a pod, and Alfred keeps trying to sneak in the kitchen to help out, until Ma notices and chases him out. “Guests?In _my_ kitchen?” she says irately, hands firmly on hips. Alfred heaves a put-upon sigh and goes to hover over Bruce, who’s bonding with Clark in awkward-dad fashion.

It’s all going quite well, aside from the part where Tim realizes that Jason snuck off to give Kon the shovel talk.

“I thought you were going to keep him away from Kon!” Tim hisses at Dick. Dick shrugs helplessly.

“Well, I talked him out of bringing anactualshovel, at least?”

—-

Alfred insists on taking a few pictures of the whole party (and everyone else accordingly insists that Alfred stop hiding behind the camera and join them). There are a few formal pictures, where no one is blinking and even Damian approximates a not-scowl, but everyone’s favorite is the other picture.

The one where Dick and Jason have teamed up to give Tim a noogie, who is flailing and failing to fight them off. Damian, of course, is giving his most genuine smile of the whole photoseries at Tim’s pain, and Kon, the fucking traitor, is laughing too hard to help his boyfriend. Alfred is long-suffering in the background, Bruce is resting his head in his hands, and Ma looks delighted.

Tim hangs it in the hallway of their apartment.


End file.
